Chapter 3

I blinked. "Huh?"

I thought I must have misheard him. Did he really just say that? Is he actually asking me to curse him again in my head?

I thought to myself, 'This has to be a hallucination. No way he can read my mind. It's gotta be a coincidence. He's just fishing for a reaction. Ha, this guy thinks he can play mind games with me?'

I pulled myself together, keeping up my teary-eyed act, ready to cry at the drop of a hat. "Mr. Grant, I didn't. How could I ever dare to curse you?"

Crystal tears slid down my cheeks and dropped onto the back of my hand, stinging a little.

But inside, I was going off. 'So what if I cursed you? Bastard. Not only are you terrible in bed, but your character sucked too. No wonder you've been single for five years.'

As I cried, I kept sneaking peeks at Edward from the corner of my eye.

His face darkened visibly, inch by inch. A vein on his forehead pulsed twice. His gaze went from curious to shocked, to utter disbelief, and finally settled into a murderous look he was barely restraining.

My heart skipped a beat. Crap. Something was off. Could he really read my mind?

No way, that was impossible. This was a CEO romance, not some fantasy novel. There was no such thing as mind-reading.

Edward scoffed, a cold laugh escaping him.

That laugh made my heart skip a beat.

Edward leaned in, planting his hands on either side of me, caging me in his shadow.

His intense, masculine scent closed in around me, leaving me nowhere to escape. It was the scent of pine after a snowfall—cold, crisp, and utterly commanding.

My breathing went completely haywire.

"Sophia," he said. His face was so close, our noses almost touched. "Are you playing out way too many scenes in your head again?"

My worldview shattered in that instant. He could really hear me. He could actually hear my thoughts.

The realization sent all my blood rushing to my head, and then draining away just as fast, leaving my limbs numb and cold like I'd been tossed into a frozen lake.

I was doomed. In the past five years, I'd trashed him behind his back at least three thousand times. What if he really heard all of that? I couldn't even go there.

I was frozen, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. I was so stunned I even forgot how to cry.

Edward looked satisfied as he took in my dazed expression. He straightened up and sank back into his seat, regaining that aloof, commanding presence.

"Take us to Summit Manor," he ordered.

The car glided forward, heading somewhere completely unfamiliar to me.

My mind was a total blank.

Summit Manor? The name echoed in my mind. The book said it was Edward's personal territory, with security so insane that not even a fly could sneak in. And now he was taking me there.

'He's gonna lock me up. He's gonna throw me in some dungeon, torture me, and make me pay for all those times I trashed him in my head over the past five years.

'What about Lucas? Is he gonna snatch my son away?' I panicked. Fear washed over me, and my teeth were chattering like crazy.

The car soon rolled up in front of Summit Manor.

Edward got out first and then hauled me out of the car like I was a kitten. "Get out," he ordered.

Edward dragged me straight into the infamous Summit Manor everyone whispered about like it was some villain's lair.

The villa was decked out in sleek, modern minimalism—cold, empty, and utterly devoid of warmth.

A butler in a sharp suit stepped forward, bowing with practiced respect. "Sir, welcome home."

His eyes widened for a split second when he saw me, but he quickly masked his surprise. "May I ask who this is, sir?" he inquired.

Edward replied flatly, "My wife."

The butler froze, completely stunned.

I blinked. "Huh?"

'Wife? What wife? Since when did I become your wife? You bastard, quit making stuff up. I'm not gonna be your wife,' I ranted in my head.

Edward's eye twitched ever so slightly. He released me and told the butler, "Take her to a guest room. Watch her. Don't let her slip away."

With that, he strode upstairs without so much as a backward glance, his posture cold and unyielding.

The butler ushered me into a guest room that was so over-the-top luxurious that it felt almost unreal.

The door shut with a sharp click, the lock turning from the outside.

I rushed to the door and yanked at the handle, but it didn't move an inch. My heart kept sinking, heavier with every passing second. He actually locked me up.